Harry Potter and the Voices Beyond the Veil
by Broken Creativity
Summary: Remember the voices in the room with the archway in the Departmen of Mysertious? So does Harry. (Sorry! I suck at summaries. :[ R&R please, it's not that bad.) Ch. 3 up! Ch. 4 coming soon!
1. Chapter 1

It was a month past the summer solstice and there was still 40 days to go until the start of term on September first and Harry Potter was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling, listless and yet restless at the same time. Wanting to get up and do something but too tired or too lazy, to make the first move. An unusual boy of almost 16, with black hair that went every which way and round glasses perched on his nose, looking through them were startling green eyes. The sun was setting outside the window, the last of the pink and orange rays mixing with the inky blue-black overtaking the sky. There was a soft knock on Harry's door.  
  
Harry sat up, listening intently. No one knocked at this house, at least not on Harry's door. They usually just barged in, for this is the Dursley's house. Harry was a Potter, most unwelcome in this household. Neither nosy Aunt Petunia nor beefy Uncle Vernon bothered knocking. They had no respect for Harry's privacy. They only left him alone because they feared his powers. There was the knock again.  
  
"Who is it?" Harry asked. The door opened and Dudley Dursley poked his head in. Dudley was the other boy in this house. He was 16, just a few months older than Harry. He'd been an overweight child all his life, until recently. Something had changed, and so had his resolve to escape the category of obese. He'd lost at least fifty pounds and it was really showing. His blond hair had been trimmed and he looked almost presentable. At the moment Dudley was looking tentative and hesitant. "What do you want?" Harry said shortly. Dudley bit his lip.  
  
"Can I talk to you?" he said, in a very quick voice. Harry looked at him. He was about to say no and tell him to shove off, but something about the way Dudley was looking at him made Harry allow Dudley entrance to his room.  
  
"Yeah... sure" Harry said. Dudley scurried in and quickly closed the door to Harry's bedroom behind him.  
  
"Can you tell me," he said fast voice, barely above a whisper. Almost as though he were afraid of anyone overhearing. "What you're capable of. As a w-w-wi-"  
  
"A wizard?" Harry suggested. Guessing from the look of terror on Dudley's face, Harry knew he was right. "What for?"  
  
Dudley did not seem to be in any hurry to get whatever he was going to say out though. He kept glancing around the room, his eyes widening with every 'abnormal' object he spotted in Harry's room, which were quite a few. There were spell books strewn all over the floor, a broomstick was sticking out from under the bed. Peering closely at it, Dudley noticed the markings that spelled out f-i-r-e-b-o-l-t. Dudley was lost. What did 'firebolt' mean? He looked very nervous indeed. He felt he was about to lose his mind when he spotted the wand on Harry's desk. Harry saw Dudley's anxiety. He gave a smirk.  
  
"Go on Dud. Pick it up. Hand it to me." Harry said. Dudley shook his head frantically, but could not keep his eyes off of the narrow strip of wood. He seemed fascinated by it.  
  
"That thing. Dad warned me about it. Said if I picked it up it would do h-h-horrible things to me... unnatural... ness..." Harry gave a mirthless laugh.  
  
"Lies Dud. Just a lie. Precious daddy just doesn't want you to see the good side of anything. He isn't ready to have the wool taken off your eyes yet. Not sheltered little Duddykins. For now you're just his puppet who does-"  
  
"Shut it." Said Dudley, his cheeks reddening.  
  
"I mean, I would be tired of it by now if I were you. I would be tired of being pushed around by that old man-"  
  
"I said to shut it!" said Dudley, very angrily indeed. He was on his feet and his fists were raised. Harry was slightly alarmed, but he tried to keep his cool as Dudley stood there, breathing very heavily, as though he'd just run a race. Harry stood up too. Harry was taller than Dudley had remembered. Harry's muscles seemed to be filling out underneath his too-big shirt. Dudley truly feared Harry. Not necessarily as a physical threat, but the magical power behind it. He wasn't sure quite how, but Dudley was quite convinced Harry would have some magic powers he could unleash without a wand if the need came to it. Being very frightened, he cast about for something he thought could help him. Dudley glanced at it the wand on the desk. His eyes flicked to it then back to meet Harry's gaze.  
  
"I dare you" Harry mouthed. Dudley's eyes glanced once more at the wand, then back at Harry. Then he dived for it.  
  
Harry didn't even try to stop him. He didn't think Dudley would seriously even touch the wand. But he was wrong.  
  
In a flash, Dudley was standing upright and triumphant, gasping and clutching the wand in his right hand. Harry's green eyes widened in shock. But Dudley didn't seem to know what to do. He just stood there, clutching it. After a second or so, he decided he could wave it and make something happen.  
  
And so he did. That was not a very good idea. For when a muggle tries to use a wizard's wand, the wand has a sort of anti-burglar / muggle security device in its initial instinct that of course goes off. The wand let out a loud bang and smoke started puffing from the end. A tinny whistle filled their ears. The was a flashing light coming from the tip, and in the midst of everything, there were two cracks, followed by two tall, red- headed, twins, identical down to the last freckle.  
  
This, perhaps above everything else, was the thing that scared Dudley. The smoke and noise was what he had been half-hoping for. But the appearances of two people in the bedroom were a bit much for poor Dudley. He dropped the wand and ran screaming from the room.  
  
"Hello, Harry" said one of the twins. His name was Fred Weasley. He was nineteen years old, brother of one of Harry's best friends, Ron Weasley.  
  
"Good to see you, mate" said the other twin, George Weasley, shaking Harry's hand. Two seconds later a red-faced and panting Uncle Vernon burst into the room, shaking with fury.  
  
"WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY SON?!" He roared, stopping dead at the sight of Fred and George. His pupils contracted with obvious fear. "Who are you?" he asked as rudely as he could while still being breathless.  
  
"Fred Weasley." Said George, taking a mock bow and extending a hand towards Uncle Vernon.  
  
"You nut." Said Fred. "You're George, and I'm Fred!" He too gave a mock bow.  
  
"Ah yes." Said George, straightening up. "You're right of course. But I'm pleased all the same to make your acquaintance. We have decided to stay visit with Harry for a while. You don't mind do you?"  
  
Before Uncle Vernon could answer however, Fred said "Excellent". And began conjuring comfy-looking armchairs and settling himself in one.  
  
"Wait, WHAT HAPPENED TO MY SON?" Yelled Uncle Vernon. Fred paused while he was making himself at home, settling on his chair  
  
"He picked up my wand!" Harry said. Fred nearly fell off the chair.  
  
"What?!" Everyone said in unison.  
  
"He did not!" said Uncle Vernon, almost angrier than he had been at first.  
  
"He did so!" said Harry hotly. "He was ready to pick a fight when the bloke grabbed it and starting waving it around."  
  
"Then everything went berserk" Fred said promptly.  
  
"You weren't there dung brains" said George.  
  
"Oh yeah..." said Fred, winking at Harry.  
  
"But the effects hadn't yet subsided, so we got to observe the results anyway." Continued George.  
  
Uncle Vernon had been backing away slowly. "Get out of my house!" he hissed. "Get out and never contact my family again, you filth, you low, unworthy scrap of dirt-" he stopped short when Fred and George pulled out their wands.  
  
"Say that again." George breathed. His wand was pointed directly at Vernon's heart. "Go on, say it again."  
  
"Fred, George!" said Harry, trying to intervene.  
  
"Get away Harry." Said Fred.  
  
Vernon backed into the doorway. With one last terrified look around the room and at Fred and George's wand, he tore out of the room. Fred chuckled as his wand turned into a rubber chicken and George's a tin haddock. Fred gently pushed Harry's door closed and turned around. Harry was still standing still, breathing a little heavy.  
  
"You guys, you scared me." He breathed. "I thought you were going to hex him."  
  
"We would have, had he been a wizard. Unfortunately, the Ministry of Magic happens to find out when you curse a muggle. Even Fudge wouldn't let that slide under these conditions." Fred said, with a smirk.  
  
"What conditions?" Harry asked. Fred and George grinned.  
  
"Oh boy," said George, "he has been in so much hot water lately"  
  
"Because of his ignorance to the truth staring him in the face-"  
  
"So to kind of suck up to Dumbledore he has been letting a lot of things go unnoticed-"  
  
"Curriculum standards at Hogwarts-"  
  
"Aw it's going to be so great there this year, almost makes me wish I was going back-"  
  
"At least Umbridge won't be there-"  
  
"Wait, wait, wait," interrupted Harry. "I'm still confused..."  
  
"Fudge is scrambling to save his-"  
  
"Office?" Harry ventured.  
  
"Well, no, I mean yes, but I was going to say his-"  
  
"The point is, Fudge is not going to be Minister for very much longer."  
  
"So who is going to replace him?"  
  
"That," said Fred, with a significant look at George, "is a very good question." 


	2. Chapter 2

CLARIFICATION I received questions concerning Dudley's weight loss, trust me, you'll understand later. (Keep in mind, that while 50 pounds may seem like a lot, Dudley was well on his way to being 300)  
DISCLAIMER (Since I forgot in Ch. 1.) I own none of thre original Harry Potter stuff. Anything or anyone or anyplace that you don't recognize is probably mine, but nothing else.  
  
Sorry this chapter took so long to get up, but I hope I made up for it in length Harry sat down on his bed. "They're thinking of putting your dad in office?" he said incredulously.  
  
"Yeah," said Fred, settling himself back in his chair. "Weird, huh?"  
  
"More unexpected, I'd say." Said George.  
  
"But... why?" Harry asked.  
  
"What? Is there something wrong with Dad?" said Fred.  
  
"No, no, that's not what I meant!" said Harry hurriedly.  
  
"I know, I was just kidding." Fred said reassuringly.  
  
"I meant, why him? Why not someone like Dumbledore?"  
  
"You know Dumbledore would never leave Hogwarts. Mainly because he's there to protect you, but he still would rather be Headmaster than Minister of Magic." Said George.  
  
"Yeah..." said Harry slowly and wistfully. He sighed  
  
"What's up, mate?" Fred asked.  
  
"Nothing." Harry said automatically. In truth, there was so much wrong. There was so much on his mind that he felt his brain was fit to burst. There was the fact that he no longer had a godfather. There was the fact that he was stuck at Number Four, Privet Drive until 'Dumbledore said' he could leave. There was the fact that he longed for his best friends company, and he could not see them or correspond with them until he saw them in person. Then there was the fact that he had no idea how long it would be until he could leave. Then there was the emptiness that had consumed him all summer. How much he wished he could turn back time and take back that whole evening in June. How much he wished he'd practiced his occlumency so he never would have had that vision.  
  
Then there was the fact that he hated his fame and everything that came with it. Harry hated the Daily Prophet, he hated everyone that worked there, he hated how they all just jump on the nearest bandwagon, first reporting lies about him, then turning around and making him seem like the hero again.  
  
There was the fact that his parents were dead and their killer was back, ready to kill Harry.  
  
There was the prophecy that Harry heard for the first time. The reason Voldemort killed his parents. The reason Voldemort wanted to kill him. "Either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives..." How was he supposed to keep all of this to himself?  
  
But then, who was he supposed to tell?  
  
The obvious choice was Ron and Hermione. But how could he explain this to them? How could he tell them that his fate had been sealed and he had no way of changing it? What was he supposed to do to make them understand? Harry couldn't think of anything.  
  
"Harry?" said Fred, jolting him out of his reverie. Harry looked up.  
  
"Yeah, sorry about that." He said, returning his gaze to the floor. After a few moments of silence he cast around for a new subject, landing on Fred and George. "So what are you guys doing here?"  
  
Fred glanced at George, then back at Harry. "We... are here on a... a sort of mission."  
  
"What's that?" asked Harry.  
  
This time it was George glancing around. "We can't exactly tell you yet." Harry's anger, which had recently settled somewhere out of sight, began to surface. This was exactly what had happened last year. George, sensing Harry's anger, quickly said, "No, mate, don't get mad just yet. What I meant was you are sort of supposed to find out later. tonight. Or tomorrow. You'll see soon I promise." Harry opened his mouth to say something hotly when he heard his name being called from downstairs.  
  
Aunt Petunia's shrill voice rang out again. "Harry Potter!" she screeched. "Get down here this instant!"  
  
"That can't be good." He muttered to himself. Turning to Fred and George he said, "Guys, er, stay up here, will you? If I need you I'll call, but it's best to not test my aunt and uncle's tempers any more than necessary..." The twins nodded and Harry went into the hallway and went downstairs into the kitchen. He was greeted by his aunt, uncle, and cousin. Dudley was sitting in a chair, looking smug, but still a little worried. Petunia was looking furious, and Vernon looking livid.  
  
"Diddy tells us what you've done to him." Petunia started.  
  
"I haven't done anything." Harry said hotly.  
  
"He said you used your... your.... your thing on him." Said Vernon.  
  
"I've already told you! He picked it up off of the desk!" Harry argued.  
  
"What a rotten little liar" Aunt Petunia sniffed. "Little Diddy would never do such a thing."  
  
Harry gave a mirthless laugh. "You really are quite stupid about your son."  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?" Uncle Vernon growled.  
  
"It means," said Harry, "That you swallow al his dim-witted lies about what he does each night. Do you ever wonder why he is out for tea so late each night? Or why he comes home smelling like smoke? Or how come there are so many bullying reports at school?"  
  
"STOP!" yelled Dudley, getting to his feet.  
  
"Or," Harry continued, ignoring his cousin, "Why he suddenly lost so much weight over the course of the year rather than gaining it?"  
  
"I said to shut it!" shouted Dudley.  
  
"Dudders, be quiet, you'll alert the neighbors!" Aunt Petunia. Both she and Uncle Vernon were gaping at Harry, who was grinning at Dudley's fury. He knew perfectly well that Dudley had lost weight because of the boxing, and the diet that he had been put back on this summer. But the truth still remained about the other things.  
  
"You just have your noses to high in the air to notice anything wrong with your son. You're eyes notice every last detail of anything I've ever done wrong, but you've never noticed how Dudley brags about getting away with anything he pleases-"  
  
"Now hold on just one second." Interrupted Uncle Vernon. "Are you saying we've raised someone who-"  
  
"I'm saying," said Harry, "That those in glass houses shouldn't throw rocks."  
  
"Well, then maybe," Petunia snarled, "You can get out of our house."  
  
"Good idea." Uncle Vernon huffed.  
  
"I can't..." Harry said blankly. "You know I can't. Dumbledore has told you, if I leave, and I never come back, what could happen."  
  
"Then I wish you would die." Hissed Aunt Petunia. "Better off dead than spreading horrible rumors about Dudley. At least we wouldn't have to put up with you. At least you never would be our responsibility again, like you never should have."  
  
Harry was doing his best to control his anger, he knew if it got the better of him the results would be catastrophic. "You shut up." He said in an even voice. "You have no idea how much I wish I could leave. You don't give a damn about me, you never have, and you never will. You never gave a damn about you sister, MY MUM, you never cared about anything." Aunt Petunia stood frozen, but sixteen years of hatred rose up in Harry, and he couldn't stop now. "You're only wish for me is that I would leave. Trust me, I want to. But I don't have a say in this. I never have a say in anything around here. Believe me, I wish I could get away. I wish I had somewhere to go, to get away from the reminders that you don't and never will care about the only family you have left." Petunia remained motionless.  
  
"You have no idea what I went through with my sister." She said after moments of silence. "You don't know what it was like for me to watch my sister be the special one. You don't know what it was like for me to lose a best friend at such a young age. I hated watching her grow resistant to me because of what I wasn't" She sniffed. Harry was now the one who was shocked. Harry could see the tears forming in his aunt's eyes and realized for the first time how much explaining there was to be done.  
  
Ok, phew! That took me a long time! It's a long chapter (. Ch. 3 should be up by next week, and there's a lot of info to process in that one. Enjoy this Chapter in the meantime, review please!!!!! 


	3. Chapter 3

Harry sank slowly onto the couch in the living room. Dudley had been sent upstairs, the door had been closed, and it was just Harry, Vernon, and Petunia.  
  
"I don't know where to start." Petunia said in a hushed voice. "I haven't talked about this in years. Nobody knows the whole story..." she looked out the window.  
  
Vernon looked concernedly at his wife. "Just start from when your sister got the letter to go to that school, or perhaps a little before that?" as much as he wanted to deny that he had any contact with the wizarding world, he know this discussion was inevitable, and despite himself, he was curious.  
  
Aunt Petunia sighed, and then began. "Lily and I were really good friends before she went off to that school. We would always hang out in the summertime, and after school. She didn't care that I was three years younger than her, and I loved being around her. Then, one day, she got that letter. The letter saying that my sister was going to be taken away from me. But that wasn't the worst part of it. It was horrible, watching everyone seem excited that she was leaving. Happy that she was going away. I was only eight, I was too young to even grasp what her learning m-m-m-.... That meant. All I knew is that she was looking forward to leaving me. You don't know how much that hurt me.  
So I turned to only other way there was, away from her. Away from anything that had to do with her, away from anything she had to do with. That school, her friends, that boy... I missed her so much. Even when I was older, when she'd come home for the summer and perfume tid-bits of what she learned, I couldn't bring myself to be happy. I was so jealous of all the attention she got. I was angry that she never shared it with me. I hated being the one that was pushed aside.  
When I got the invitation to her wedding, I almost refused to go. I decided to give her one last chance. She blew it. I was ignored, pushed aside, the only one at the reception who wasn't like them. She didn't even acknowledge me as a sister, or even a friend. I was just another guest, another face.  
So when I saw you, Harry, on our doorstep after more than two years of silence from my sister, I did not want anything to do with you. I hated you. I only read the letter that man wrote to see if there was any way of returning you to your people. But the words of that man softened me momentarily. He wrote of Lily and how she spoke of missing me, and how she regretted letting us lose touch. He wrote of how we were your last chance. He made me remember the love I once felt for her." Petunia's eyes welled up with tears. Her voice shook as she recalled the pain she'd kept bottled up for all of these years. "Having you here was a constant reminder of what had happened. Every time I looked at your eyes I thought about her, about how I never even got to say good-bye. It killed me. I didn't want you enjoying yourself when your mother had hurt me. I couldn't stand to see you happy because it made me think of how happy she was without me."  
  
Harry couldn't think of anything to say. He opened his mouth, but closed it again. After several minutes of extremely uncomfortable silence, he said, "So, uh, when did you hear... my dad... tell my mum... about the dementors," remembering what she had said last year about overhearing James tell Lily about the guards of Azkaban.  
  
Aunt Petunia drew a shuddering gasp. "At the wedding." She whispered, almost inaudibly. "They were also talking to the best man... I don't remember much about him."  
  
"Hold on," Harry said, and he made a dash upstairs. As he tore out into the hall he was surprised that Dudley wasn't there, attempting to listen. But he wasn't paying much attention as he hurried upstairs and began digging through his possessions. He was so distracted he didn't notice Fred and Georges absence in his room. It didn't even register that they should have been there. Finally he found what he was looking for, a thick leather bound picture album. Flipping through it, he found the picture he was looking for, and hurried back downstairs.  
  
"Is this him? The best man?" Harry said, panting slightly.  
  
Aunt Petunia nodded, seeming unable to speak. The tears that had been forming began to fall slowly down her cheeks onto her lap, but she made to effort to stop the tears from falling. Harry was in utter disbelief. Never before had he seen such a display of emotion from his aunt. All of these years he'd thought her to be someone who had no heart, except when it came to her son. The only thing that seemed to matter to her, aside from her reputation.  
  
"And what was the last? That Dumbledore told you to remember in that howler-" he stopped short at the sharp intake of breath that Aunt Petunia drew.  
  
"I'm going to go check on Dudders. He must be feeling awfully hurt after what we did to him." She said, standing up and regaining her snappish tone. She wiped the tears from her cheeks and walked out of the room without another word. Uncle Vernon quickly followed his wife out of the room. Harry was left alone and almost more confused than ever. Sure, Aunt Petunia's confession helped explain why they hated the wizarding world so much, but he still didn't understand why she wouldn't tell him about the Howler? What was she hiding?  
  
Harry slowly got up and traveled back upstairs, taking the leather bound book with him. As he was dragging his feet up the steps he suddenly remembered that his room was empty. His heart quickened and so did his pace. Then he heard an ear-splitting scream that made his heart stop almost altogether.  
  
Taking the steps three at a time he rushed to Dudley's room, stopping dead at the scene that greeted him. . 


End file.
